Brooklyn
by Cards
Summary: Borderline R This isn't your normal story. Deals with domestic abuse. About Spot.
1. Brooklyn

"Spot." One of the boys hailed him as he entered. 

"Hey Twin." Spot replied. 

"How many ya sell?"

"Taday?"

"Yeah."

"Near two hundred." 

The boy looked at him wide eyed in surprised "Dats a lot!" 

"Yeah it is kid." Spot paid for the night signing his name in untidy script. 

"Spot she started yellen' at Preachah again." Fists muttered concentrating heavily on the newspaper he was reading. "Da kids near tears."

"An' I though I might relax ta night." Spot said walking up the stairs to see Blackjack glaring at Preacher who was crying on his own bunk. 

"What did ya do to da kid?" Spot roared. 

"Me all I did was tell him god don't care about us!"

"But he does!" Preacher said sniffling. 

"Preacher, stop crying, are you in Brooklyn or Manhattan?" 

"Brooklyn." The boy said smiling a little. 

"Dats wha I tought." Spot said. "Now go down stairs." The boy smiled and walked down stairs. Spot turned to Blackjack. "Why da fuck did ya haveta tell him dat?" He asked yelling at her. 

"Its true! Ya don't go crazy when some one told Twin dat Kris Kringle was a lie!" She yelled. 

"Preacher bases his whole existence on da fact dat if he's good den god'll reward him!"

"There is no god here. Or good." She gestured to the room. "Look at dis place its hell!"

"Shut up!" Spot yelled. 

"Nuten changes here! We ain't gunna get any bettah! No one grows up here innocent." She looked some what disgusted at Spot.

"You're so stupid!" He yelled at her advancing on the girl seeming to tower over her even though he was only two inches taller then her. 

"Oh am I?" Blackjack asked not backing down.

"Yes!" Spot yelled raising his hand back. 

"Fine hit me!" Blackjack yelled. 

"Don't cross me!" Spot yelled. 

"Or what ya'll put da wrath a Brooklyn on me?" Blackjack asked "Here's what I tink a Brooklyn." She spit on Spot. She realized her mistake and he brought his fist back and punched her. 

"Still tink dat?" He asked breathing a little heavy.

"Twice as much." she muttered. Something in Spot broke and he pushed her down, punching her wildly. 

"Ya stupid brat!" He yelled as he slapped her. As soon as he calmed down he saw here black hair matted with blood. "Oh my god Blackjack I'se sorry." He whispered kissing her "please forgive me." He ran a hand through her hair as she nodded. 

Through the door Preacher watched he took a cross off from his neck throwing it down "She was righ, he din' stop nuten." he said his brown eyes full of tears as he bit his lip holding them in. 

Disclaimer: I don't own Spot I own the rest.

Author's notes: I haven't read much (If anything) of Spot or any newsie being abusive. Something that happened then, and happens now. Please no flames about Spot's behavior. 

Cards on: 

Domestic Abuse-

Please report abuse! It is Horrible! And too many people have to suffer through it! Wear a purple ribbon to show you want to end it. Please find a way to stop domestic abuse in your area.


	2. Matted Hair

Blackjack sat quietly on Spot's Bunk feeling her eye gently, it was a little sensitive to the touch and she could imagine it being an ugly purple when she looked at it in the mirror. There was a few cuts on her head and she could feel the blood sticking in her hair, matting it. 

Suddenly all she wanted was a hot bath. A hot bath and Spot kissing her collar bone, moving his hand up her blouse warm on her stomach and his breath hot on her neck. He was so gentle with her normally. All kisses and sweetness, but he had a temper. 

Blackjack laughed shortly, yes Spot had a temper but he made up for it. Made up for it with kisses and promises. Why was she staying with him? He was insanely jealous and demanding, a hypocrite to the last. But… Blackjack sighed. She loved him. 

She hadn't said anything to him but she did, desperately she loved him, with every fiber in her being. Even now she ached to be with him. Any way her father had hit her and her mother, it was normal, she shouldn't have spit on him.

She stood up, moving to the empty washroom and taking off the dress she wore. It had some blood on it she noticed and decided to wash it first. She was standing in only her camisole and the bruises on her thin arms were obvious standing out even with the dirt. 

Blackjack looked at her face in a mirror and saw the bruises and the blood on her face . Her hair was a sticky mess and she was dirty. She pressed her eyelids together and tried to will way the hot tears. 

Suddenly she felt two warm hands at her shoulders turning her around gently. "You okay?" She heard Spot's voice ask her.

She nodded silently, biting her lip, hoping he wouldn't be mad at her crying. Instead she felt his warm fingers lift her chin and his calm voice ordering her gently to open her eyes. She looked at him through her long eyelashes . 

His eyes captivated her. "God I can' believe I did dat." He said ashamed as his finger brushed over her eye. 

"Spot ya din' mean ta!" Blackjack said seriously "I'se sorry!" She whispered. "Ya shouldn' a needed ta! I was wrong ta tell Preacher dem tings!"

Spot looked at her strangely. "I shouldna, an I won't evah again." He decided. 

Blackjack smiled weakly as he took a wash cloth and wiped her face gently, the semi white cloth turning a dark red as he washed her gently. He grabbed some of the excess cloth that was kept around for injuries and placed it against the back of Blackjack's head. Then he made her sit down as he whispered to her about the future and everything great that would happen. 

Blackjack smiled and leaned against Spot as he washed her face clean of the blood and grime.

This was the Spot Conlon she was in love with, the sweet boy who would clean her and tell her sweet things. Who would put her dress in to soak and then pick her up kissing her as he brought her to his room, gently placing her on his bed and unbuttoning the small buttons that went down her front, kissing her as he went along. 

That was the Spot Conlon she loved. Even though he seemed to be a separate person some days, she still loved him. Even though he hit her she loved him. 

Author's Notes: Wow a sequel to Brooklyn and I though I didn't have it in me! YAY for muses!

Disclaimer: I own Blackjack, Disney owns the rest.

Cards on:

Unrequited love-

NO YOU DUMB ASS I DID NOT STEAL IT FROM A BOOK!

Shout Outs for "Brooklyn"


	3. I could

Spot went up to Manhattan every month at least as he did to every other borough to make sure nothing important happened that he needed to know. This time he brought Blackjack, she was from Manhattan and he thought she would appreciate it. 

As they walked across the bridge she seemed much more subdued from the girl he had first started courting. She didn't argue with him, hardly stood up for herself and would try to pacify every one around him. Guiltily he realized how he had destroyed her. But he kept on telling himself that she deserved it. He knew she had been flirting with Fists, he knew she had been causing trouble, she shouldn't have told Preacher those things. 

"What if dey ask how I got hurt?" Blackjack asked quietly. Secretly he missed her and her arguments, even if he did find them tiresome. 

"Say ya got inta a fight." Spot said as he put his arm around her waist pulling her close to him. "I'se sorry." He mumbled into her ear, softly he repeated the phrase kissing her as she got pressed into a beam. 

"Spot dis is public." she whispered trying to push him away, a bit of her old self creeping in. 

"I tink it's a fine place." He muttered pulling her close, his fingers digging into her arms leaving bruises. 

"Spot come on…" Blackjack winced "Ya hoitin' me." 

"Don' be a wimp." Spot said. "Ya lucky I'se letten ya come wid me ta Manhattan."

"I'se sorry!" Blackjack apologized and moved to kiss him. "Its okay." She said fearfully. 

"Dat's more like it." Spot said kissing her. Even though he had won it seemed like a hollow victory, nothing came of it. 

They walked the rest of the way to Duane street silently. Before they entered the building Spot turned to Blackjack. "Don't tell em." He said quietly. 

The door was opened and Jack welcomed the two in. Traditionally there would be a game of poker that everyone participated in. Blackjack declined after a sharp shake of the head from Spot.

"But Blackjack, normally ya love Pokah!" Mush said worried. 

"Nah, I jus dun feel like playing." She whispered avoiding looking at him.

"Besides she's my good luck charm!" Spot said placing a hand on her possessively.

"Well I wanna tawk to ya some time Blackie!" Mush said his brown eyes big and pleading. "Ya nevah come ovah here any moir! Ya'd tink we was on opposite sides a da country!"

Blackjack turned around. "Can I please Spot?" She asked quietly. Mush screwed up his face when she asked permission. The Blackjack he remembered didn't ask any one's permission. She had a lot of bruises and cuts as well. 

"When me and Jackie boy start tawkin lateah ya can." Spot granted her permission. 

Mush took up the cards he hadn't realized he dropped and through his big brown eye watched a bruised battered Blackjack submit to what ever Spot wanted, he could treat her so much better… So much better.


End file.
